


The Spectre's Greatest Enemy Is His Niece

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Reapers, Babysitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:23:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saren is babysitting his niece when Nihlus runs into him. The kid's a bit more precocious than Saren would like.</p><p>No-Reapers AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spectre's Greatest Enemy Is His Niece

Nihlus associated several things with Saren. Booze, swishy black clothing, everything on his half of the fridge “mysteriously disappearing”…

Not children, though. Definitely not children.

Yet oddly enough, as he sauntered along his usual walking path on the Presidium, there Saren was, leaning against a railing with his arms crossed and his head turned lazily in the general direction of a small crestless turian several long strides away. Nihlus was pretty sure he recognized her. Saren’s niece, if he remembered right. Desolas’s daughter. What was her name… He couldn’t remember, but he did know he’d nicknamed her ‘Tiny’ last time he’d run into her.

Three years ago.

“Saren?” he called, tilting one mandible. Usually Saren went back to Palaven when he babysat.

Saren fluttered a mandible at him in acknowledgement. “Nihlus.”

He coughed into his fist and wandered over. “That’s your niece, right? The councilor’s not starting a new policy of using Spectres as babysitters?”

Saren let out about as gentle a snort as Nihlus ever heard come out of him. “Yes, that’s Taniria. You’re safe.”

He heaved an exaggerated sigh, and Saren rolled his eyes. “Desolas has business on the station, and… and the captain is too far along in the pregnancy to take Taniria anywhere she wants.”

Nihlus clicked his mandibles good-naturedly. “Still can’t call her by name?”

“That _is_ her name.”

“Really? I distinctly remember you said her name was Lieutenant.”

“She had a name change.”

“Uh-huh. More like she got promoted, and you still can’t admit to yourself that your brother is married.”

Saren snorted derisively, and Nihlus chuckled. “Anyway, so you got roped into babysitting?”

Saren shrugged. “She likes me, apparently.”

“Would that have anything to do with the fact that you let her eat junk food and stay up past her bedtime?”

Saren’s mandibles fluttered. “I can’t help it if it works.”

“This is another thing on the list of things where if I ever repeat it to your brother, you’ll kill me in my sleep, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is. We share an apartment, Nihlus.”

“That just means you’ll be at the top of the suspect list.”

Saren worked his jaw for a moment like he was running through possible responses in his head, but before he could settle on one, there came a piercing, delighted shriek and the clatter of small talons against the walkway. “Uncle Nihlus!”

Nihlus grunted as a small, pale gold rocket impacted with his shin with all the force of a dreadnought’s main cannon, then glanced down and put his hands on his hips. “Hey, Tiny,” he said, perking his mandibles up. “You being good for Uncle Saren?”

Saren’s niece started scaling his leg, pulling herself up to his hip spur. “Yes, Uncle Nihlus,” she said, fluttering her stubby little mandibles at him.

He didn’t even need to see Saren’s eyes to know how hard he was rolling them. “That’s good, but I’m not your uncle.”

“Pari says you are,” she said matter-of-factly, and Saren stiffened out of the corner of Nihlus’s eye.

He snorted slightly and nudged her head. “Does he, now? Well, I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but your pari is prone to jumping to conclusions.”

She scrunched her nasal plates together. “What’s that mean?”

He flicked a mandible good-naturedly. “Right now, it means I’m not your uncle.”

“Oh.” She considered this, then tilted her head. “Will you be my uncle if I’m good?”

He blinked, then laughed. “Sorry, Tiny, but it doesn’t work that way. You need time.”

“Aww… Will you be my uncle next year?”

He glanced at Saren, who now looked like he was contemplating whether it would be more painful to continue listening to the conversation or go to the dentist, then shook his head at Taniria. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about the year after that?”

“No, probably not.”

She thought for a moment, then held out her hands and feet so she could see them and bobbed her head along like she was counting. “What about when I’m ten?”

He looked at Saren again, smiling to himself at how Saren had apparently decided the inside of his hood was the most fascinating thing in the galaxy and was trying to pull it as far down over his head as the extra fabric would allow. “I don’t know, maybe when you’re ten. It’s up to Uncle Saren, you know.”

Saren immediately froze, then groaned as Taniria immediately started reaching for him and trilling to get his attention. “Why, Nihlus?”

“Because I’m an evil demon that feeds off your suffering in specific. Also because I can’t resist a face like that, but mostly the first one.” He fluttered his mandibles, then handed Taniria over to Saren. “How long do you have her for?”

“Until after dinner. Desolas will be picking her up so she can get to bed at a reasonable hour.”

“Perfect!” he said cheerfully, leaning in to tap Taniria on her nose. “Mind if I join you and Uncle Saren for the day?”

While the toddler cheered and nodded emphatically, Saren groaned. “Why must you invite yourself along?”

“Admit it, you like my company.”

“I do no such thing.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why you skulk around the apartment and stall leaving for assignments until I ask if you want an extra set of hands for the mission. And why, you know, we’re sharing an apartment in the first place.”

“First, it’s more practical to have two on a mission than one. I can send you to work with the public while I do the dirty work. Second, it’s mutually beneficial to both our bank accounts if we split the rent.”

Nihlus quirked his mandibles up. “Keep telling yourself that. Me and Tiny know the truth, though, don’t we, Tiny?”

Taniria giggled and nodded, and Nihlus knocked his shoulder against Saren’s. “Come on, I’ll buy lunch. You can blame me for any babbling the munchkin does to your brother about _Fratri Sari_ getting married.”

* * *

 

Desolas scanned his brother’s apartment with a critical eye, mandibles twitching. “No trouble at all?” he asked dryly, looking pointedly at the scattered cloaks, dishes, and toys littering the main room.

Kryik and Saren looked behind themselves in unison, then back at him as Kryik quickly said, “Oh, that’s not Tiny’s work, Saren just never cleans unless the landlord’s dropping by. Kid’s been an absolute angel.”

“Funny, she’s usually a handful.” He flicked one mandible. “So was Saren. Kindred spirits.”

He felt a tug on his cloak, and glanced down to see his daughter waiting patiently with a talon in her mouth, eyes wide. “Pari,” she said, “can I stay with Uncle Saren and Uncle Nihlus tonight?”

He raised a brow plate and glanced up at the two of them. “ _Uncle_ Nihlus? I thought you were _against_ that title, Saren.”

Saren looked like he was currently in the middle of watching his life flash before his eyes, while Kryik ducked his head into his cowl and raised his mandibles sheepishly. “That, uh, that would be my fault, General, sir.”

“I see.” He rotated his mandibles in slow, small circles, then turned to Taniria and scooped her up. “Sorry, _lidan_ , but Mari misses you. You want to see Mari, don’t you?”

“Mari?” Her stubby mandibles quirked up, and she pattered her hands against his cowl. “Yes! Mari!”

He smiled at her and leaned forward slightly to kiss the top of her head. “Got all your things?”

“Yes, Pari.” She pointed to the bag she’d left at his feet, and he dutifully leaned down to pick it up.

Straightening up and tossing the bag over his shoulder, he glanced at his brother, flicking a mandible. “Thanks for watching her, Saren.”

Saren rolled his shoulders. “I accept food as payment.”

“I’ll buy dinner next time you’re in Cipritine,” he said, turning to open the door. A thought struck him, and he turned back just as the door slid open. “Oh, and Kryik?”

Kryik’s mandibles dropped quickly, and Desolas smirked inwardly. “I appreciate you not trying to convince me you’re not fucking my brother when you two reek of each other. Buy groceries more, would you? Don’t let him subsist off takeout, he gets sick when he eats nothing but for a week.”

Both Saren’s and Kryik’s necks flushed bright blue, and Kryik tried to stammer out a response, but Desolas just turned and left.

As the door closed behind him, he heard Kryik ask, “I don’t _really_ smell that bad, do I? Spirits, I had a meeting with the _councilor_ earlier…”

**Author's Note:**

> The Arca Monolith encountered in Evolution that brings about the events leading to Desolas Arterius's death is Reaper tech, thus wouldn't exist in a no-Reapers AU. This is very important for cute extended family domesticity purposes.


End file.
